


Ner Kih'sarad

by JonathanAnubian



Series: Setting Souls Aflame [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alien Biology, Compulsion, Dom/sub Undertones, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force-Sensitive Clone Troopers (Star Wars), M/M, Mandalorian Culture (Star Wars), Mando'a Language (Star Wars), No Chips, Pack Dynamics, Pack Hierarchy, Possessive Behavior, Symbiotic Evolution, Taung Ancestry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:20:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29945082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JonathanAnubian/pseuds/JonathanAnubian
Summary: Alpha-17 intended to push his vod'ika into the role of Mand'alor, a role he knew the younger clone would excel in. But there comes a snag in the form of a redheaded jetii.The man looks small in his large robes, small and beautiful like a flower covered in thorns. It was obvious the Stewjonian would be a challenge for anyone who tried to make him their mate.Alpha-17 intended to make Kote the Mand'alor... but plans change.
Relationships: Alpha-17 & CC-2224 | Cody, Alpha-17/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: Setting Souls Aflame [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2070174
Comments: 2
Kudos: 69





	Ner Kih'sarad

When 17 had finished his daily workout routine he took his time in the showers. He could feel a low buzz thrumming in the back of his head, an extra awareness that he’d grown more and more aware of the stronger he became. After defeating the Prime in single combat that awareness had skyrocketed. He could now sense any of his brothers, as long as he was focusing on them. The massive web that was the network spread out before his minds eye and with just a thought he could follow any thread.

Thank the Stars that the Prime hadn’t yet noticed his power had been usurped, that Manda was looking for a new King. He and Ordo still had some work to do if they wanted to pull off their plan with the least amount of life lost.

“Alor.” Opening his eyes he stepped out of the spray of water to see 51 standing a respectful distance away. “Kote is here, he brought a jetii.” The news was certainly unusual but he didn’t see why that was his problem. “Small, red hair, blue eyes. They feel… familiar.”

A slow grin crept across his face as he realized exactly what 51 was getting at. “I’ll be out in a minute. Alert Ordo that our plans might be coming along faster than anticipated.” 51 pressed a fist to his chest before turning on his heel and leaving 17 alone.

Now, 17 knew that Kote would make an excellent Mand’alor, on that both he and Ordo could agree. The only problem was that his vod’ika had absolutely no motivation to take the position for himself. Oh, 17 knew he was just being cautious, wanting to protect all of the vode. But that sort of caution could also lead to stagnation. For their plan to work Kote needed to challenge 17 on his own.

Which he did not seem keen on doing.

So he’d taken to pushing the younger chief, pressing his buttons to try and get a reaction out of him. Kote noticed, of course. He was sharper than any beskad, so he knew that 17 was baiting him. He just chose to grit his teeth and refuse to challenge 17 for the many sleights and insults he’d been subjected to. 17 would have been worried about his vod’ika’s reputation if it weren’t for the fact that Kote could beat the hell out of anyone who tried to question his authority.

But now there was a new factor. While the Alphas might not give two flying fucks about the jetiise 17 knew that the Commander Class was brainwashed to believe they hung the damn stars in the heavens. Which meant his vod’ika would be particularly twitchy about this jetii.

Especially if they were what 51 suggested they were.

So 17 took his damned time finishing his shower and cleaning himself up. By the time he came out of the fresher he knew that Kote would already be mildly annoyed. The younger man was a stickler for promptness.

Noticing the redhead immediately, they were hard to miss considering their jetii robes, he loosened his movements and slowed ever so slightly. He made it obvious as his gaze shifted from Kote to the jetii. Well, they certainly weren’t ugly that was for certain. His lips twitched slightly in a subtle smirk as Kote’s eyes narrowed.

Was it that easy?

Sitting on the nearest bench he leaned back slightly, feeling perfectly safe to be in a less than stellar position if he had to move quickly. It was a subtle goad that was clearly caught as he watched Kote clench his hands at his sides in agitation.

“Kote, me’vaar?” If his voice was a little more rough than usual it was only because they had an audience. It had nothing to do with deep blue eyes that watched his every move, trying to judge whether or not he was dangerous.

“He understands Mando’a so you might as well speak Basic.” Now that was a surprise. He hadn’t thought the jetiise would teach such a thing to their people. Especially not after the massacre of Galidraan.

17 shifted focus from Kote and let his eyes wander over the jetii’s body in a more obvious leer. The red hair really was fetching against the paleness of the jetii’s skin. “Does he, now?” He asked, voice dropping in a way he knew caused one of two reactions. The more common one was fear, but he often added a menacing growl to his tone to achieve that reaction. The second one, the one he was hoping to trigger, was attraction.

Jango Fett wasn’t unattractive. They’d heard enough whispered comments from the Cuy’val Dar about how many of them wanted to get plowed by the Prime to know that most near-humans found their appearance to be pleasing to the eyes.

He didn’t get the reaction he was looking for from the jetii but Kote certainly looked ready to throw hands if he pressed.

“I do. I spent a year on Manda’yaim and although I am not wholly fluent I am quite skilled in the language.” The redhead suddenly said, as if trying to break the tension between them.

“So, why is a jetii, a Stewjoni jetii, coming to the Alpha class?” The look in Kote’s eyes was dark and filled with the urge to do violence. When 17 turned his gaze back to the jetii his vod’ika stepped in front of the smaller man protectively. Territorially.

“Al’alor, the Jedi fought the Prime before he fled Kamino. Knight Kenobi needs a comm strong enough to reach Coruscant, without alerting the Kaminoans or the Prime. I know you have access.” The younger man’s eyes narrowed and he started signing. _‘I know you have contact with Spar.’_ Immediately 17’s hackles were raised.

No one should know about 02! Spar was one of 17s closest vode and he didn’t take kindly to someone who shouldn’t have that information using it as a threat against him.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, vod’ika.” Standing he took a step toward the younger man, the sharp edge of anger in every line of his body. Kote stood firm, unmoved, though his eyes had a stony determination to them that was quite admirable.

But not confrontational.

Giving up for the time being he waved at Shen to bring him his armor. “I’ll get the jetii a comm.” He promised. Kote relaxed slightly and 17 had to hide a smirk as he began to sign. ‘Nice prize. You’ll have to fight to keep it.’ His vod’ika let out a low growl and he narrowed his eyes. 17 was so close to getting under Kote’s skin and goading the man into challenging him.

Shen set down his armor, shoulders hunched slightly and head lowered to show he was no threat to the two chiefs. With a small huff he let it go for the time being and with practiced ease he donned his armor.

When he was finished he motioned for the two of them to follow him and strode out of the gym with confidence. Part of infiltration was knowing how to act normal, like a cog in the machine. The Kaminiise were far more likely to ignore you if you looked like you knew what you were doing and where you were going. Of course with a jetii tailing him he was fairly certain they wouldn’t have any trouble.

Looking back he saw the disgruntled look in Kote’s eyes and held back a laugh, although some of his amusement leaked out. It was obvious how annoyed his vod’ika was with 17 stealing the attention of the redhead. “So, jetii, what do you know of Manda’yaim and the history of the Mando’ade?” The redhead smiled and 17 had to take a moment to blink away his surprise.

He slowed down so he could walk beside the pretty redhead, both curious and feeling that tug in his soul that linked Mando’ade and Stewjoni’ade together.

“When I was sixteen I went on a mission to Manda’yaim. Most of that year was spent on the run from a terrorist organization, protecting the Duchess Satine.” That had to be Kyr’tsad… wait. Who the fuck had sent a sixteen year old Stewjoni’ad to Manda’yaim during a civil war? Hell, he should have been the one to object to the mission in the first place. Unless…

“You know a lot about Manda’yaim, but what do you know about Stewjon?” The jetii faltered, looking embarrassed among other things.

“I know very little about my birth world. I was taken in by the Order at a very young age. I have no memory of Stewjon, and they are very reclusive from what I’ve heard.” That was just aggravating. The Prime had mentioned that no one outside of Mandalore space knew about Stewjon and even then the information was only really taught in the older clans. With the Kalevalan usurper sitting on the throne the information wasn’t being taught in schools to true Mando’ade anymore. Some of them didn’t even know the power they held over the people of Stewjon.

“How interesting. You’d think the jetiise would have wanted to warn you.” That caught both of their attention. Good. “Stewjon has a shared history with Manda’yaim.” He turns to catch the jetii’s eyes. “It was once considered an honor by the Taung for their leaders to go to Stewjon and hunt themselves a prize.” Of course that practice had stopped centuries ago.

The redhead takes a small step away from him, toward Kote, and his vod’ika takes advantage of it to place himself between 17 and the jetii. _“You want a smack to the face, brother? Because that can be arranged. Pack it in!”_ Well, it really was that easy, apparently. 

A shout from behind them distracts them all as one of Kote’s batch-mates scurries over to them, head on a swivel in case any Kaminiise or Cuy’val Dar are around. He hands Kote something and his vod’ika frowns.

“What’s this?” Ponds hesitates for a moment before squaring his shoulders.

 _‘Tracker. A brother placed it on Prime’s ship. It’s still active.’_ He signed rapidly. The jetii looked intrigued, blue eyes following the man’s hands, but it was obvious he didn’t understand. Kote handed the jetii the tracker.

“Sir. There’s a tracker on the Prime’s ship. This should help with your mission, right?” He wanted to scoff at his vod’ika calling the jetii Sir but was distracted by the bright smile and steely gaze of the redhead as he took the locator. He could feel the tremble in the network as the Manda tested the connection between a Chief and a Stewjoni’ad, looking for compatibility. It certainly seemed to be there, the redhead didn’t show any signs of rejecting Kote’s presence.

“That’s very helpful, thank you.” There was gratitude and relief on the jetii’s face. “Are we close to our destination?” Clear blue eyes turned to him and he could feel the vibrations in the web. Rather than acknowledge them he nodded an affirmative and motioned them toward their desitnation.

Kote’s batch-mate falls in on his vod’ika’s left, practically staring at the redheaded jetii as if he couldn’t believe the man actually existed. He frowned over at the younger vod, the man was being far too obvious. It was embarrassing. Not to mention the larger their group the more suspicious the Kaminiise would be. “I said I’d take you and the jetii, not one of your verd.” His vod’ika glares at him but signs for his batch-mate to report to the second in command of Kote’s group.

The verd gives a quick salute before disappearing down the next hall they pass.

“You speak Mando’a but use a unique set of hand signs?” The jetii asked, openly curious as he ran his hand over his beard in thought.

“We can use Mando hand signs as well but we prefer our own.” He answered. The redhead nods, becoming quiet and eyes becoming slightly unfocused. 

Kote catches his eye and glances at the jetii before looking back at him. ‘What do you know?’ He demanded, hand signs stilted and crude. 17 gave his vod’ika the most infuriatingly smug grin he could manage.

 _‘Challenge me. Win and I’ll tell you everything you want to know.'_ Kote rolls his eyes and 17 gives him a stern look. ‘You’re no coward, challenge me.’ Kote’s jaw clenches and he glared straight ahead for a moment before responding.

 _‘When there are witnesses. We’ll do this properly or not at all.’_ Now all he had to do was coordinate with the Nulls and let nature take its course. He wasn’t going to just let Kote win, his vod’ika would have to pry victory from his clutches.

“In here jetii.” Heading over to the room he knew would be empty he sliced the lock and waved the other two inside before locking the door behind them. Once the equipment was all set he glanced at the redhead and stepped away from the console. “You’re up, jetii.”

The call connected without issue and the redhead smiled up at the dark skinned male. It was obvious the man was a fellow jetii, considering the similarity in their robes.

“Master Windu, thank the force I was able to reach you.” The other jetii frowned.

“Knight Kenobi, it’s good to hear from you. What happened to your personal comm?” The redhead winced, trying and failing to smile in a way that was not incriminating.

“Ah, the bounty hunter I was chasing? I discovered his identity the hard way.” The man shifted on his feet slightly, slipping his hands into his sleeves. A nervous habit, perhaps? “Jango Fett, former Mand’alor of the True Mandalorians and infamous Jedi Killer.” His vod’ika turned to look at him in surprise. 17 inclined his head slightly in an affirmative. “A man we’ve been led to believe had died over twenty years ago.”

“Why is it always you walking into these dangerous messes?” The jetii laughed and 17 frowned at how fake it sounded. 

“I always get out of them again, eventually. No worse for wear.” He can feel the protective wave of emotion rolling off his vod’ika as he realized how much trouble the jetii was going to be.

“Obi-wan, that’s a damned lie and you know it. Tell me truthfully, how injured are you?” The redhead’s body language turned defensive and he smiled brightly, although it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Oh, nothing particularly bad.” Even the other jetii looked as if he knew that line was osik.

With a small growl Kote raised his voice, loud enough to be heard over the comm from the other side of the room. “My medic said he has three cracked ribs, multiple contusions, and a twisted ankle. We’ve treated him for the worst of his injuries and he should recover swiftly.” Having been raised to yell across battlefields it was obvious he’d been heard. 17 watched his vod’ika for a moment, holding back a grin.

The pout of betrayal on the jetii’s face in response to being called out was absolutely priceless.

“Who was that?” The jetii’s shoulders fell slightly and he looked fatigued.

“For the last ten years or so Jango Fett has been supplying the Kaminoans with his dna. The Kaminoans claim they were commissioned by the Jedi on behalf of the Republic to build us an army of cloned soldiers. That was… CC-2224, he holds the rank of Commander.” There was a spike of something bordering betrayal in Kote’s presence before it shifted to understanding.

The jetii smiled when Kote seemed to finally understand and 17 snorted in amusement at the sappy feelings coming from his vod’ika. He was so far gone for the redhead it was comical.

“Why would someone impersonate a Jedi and commission these Kaminoans? And for that matter, why an army of clones? None of this is adding up… did they say who it was that commissioned them?” The jetii nodded, looking a little lost and disturbed.

“Master Sifo-dyas. But it is my understanding that he died ten years ago.” 17 clenched his jaw. He knew more about what was actually going on but the information was too dangerous to share with the jetiise.

“Master Sifo-Dyas… he always had strong visions.” The man shook his head. “We’ll look into it on our end. What happened to your ship?” The redhead grimaced.

“It was blown up, by Fett, when he escaped. I, uh, found myself a little indisposed for a time after that so unfortunately he was able to get off planet.” The dark skinned jetii closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It looked as if he were praying for patience. “Oh, but good news. The clones planted a tracker on his ship and have given me the locator. I’ll send you the data I have and any information I can gather from the Kaminoans.” The other jetii nodded.

“I want you to stay where you are and keep an eye on things.” He motioned toward someone out of range and a low mumbling could be heard. “We’re sending you two Masters for back-up. Padawan Skywalker can remain where he is.” Osik. More jetiise would certainly throw a wrench into things. He’d need to contact Ordo and tell him to speed things up.

“Of course, Master Windu. And, uh, who was it you were thinking of sending?” 

“Master Ti and Master Koon. They can be there within the week.” The redhead smiles, unguarded and bright. Shab, that kind of expression should be banned.

“Stay safe, Obi-wan. Keep an eye out for Master Ti and Koon. Make sure the Kaminoans don’t suspect you are anything other than a customer.” The jetii’s eyes darken to the color of a coming storm and a small shiver runs down 17s spine. He’d thought the jetii weak due to his appearance, but that look in his eyes was anything but weak.

“I know, Mace. No matter what this… reminds me of, I will do my duty. May the force be with you.” He couldn’t help but to roll his eyes at the expression.

“And with you.” The call ended and the man took a moment to collect himself before turning to them.

“Ah, 17, was it? Could you help me send this data packet without any trace? We’ll need to erase all records.” A simple enough task, and a good plan. He could feel Kote’s slight burn of jealousy and knocked into his shoulder on the way to the console, to further rile him up.

When they were done he locked the door behind them. The jetii looked a lot more stable than he had before, more sure of himself. It was a nice change.

“I’ve done my part, vod’ika, you better hold up your end.” The jetii looks between them, confused.

“Just name a time and place.” His vod'ika says through gritted teeth. 17 smirked and commed Fordo.

_“Yes, Sir?”_

_“Gather a couple of witnesses from each clan.”_ There is a moment of silence before Fordo lets out a small chuckle of understanding.

 _“Affirmative, Sir. Training room Senth-37 will be free in an hour.”_ Giving his vod’ika a feral grin he shuts off the comm.

“You heard him. One hour, vod’ika.” Kote nods as he turns away. “Oh, and bring the gift with you.”

He doesn’t look back as he heads down the hall, thoughts already turned toward the coming challenge.


End file.
